


Love's not a Competition

by Turtle_ier



Series: Turtle's MCYT AUs [16]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Cheating, George is cheating on sapnap >:(, M/M, No Smut, Past Relationship(s), Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:36:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28798491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turtle_ier/pseuds/Turtle_ier
Summary: Dream’s other hand was still on the bed, just a little ways off from George’s ribs, but the one on his hip was steady. George opened his mouth to stir the calm waters between them.“I think we should break up,” he said.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: Turtle's MCYT AUs [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1875367
Comments: 5
Kudos: 89
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	Love's not a Competition

It was an ice cube in the sun – wonderful, refreshing at first, and then it gradually declined into nothingness. 

George lay motionless on the bed. Sunlight came through the yellowed, thin curtains of the bedroom and he could feel the sweat dripping down his back like an insect, an uncomfortable feeling but somehow fitting, given what he was about to say. Dream, or at least his noises, came gently from the en suite, and George could tell he was trying not to make too much noise. For what reason he wasn't sure, since they had been loud just before, but he let him get on with it. It was sometimes easier just to let him do what he wanted without questioning it. 

But then Dream was there, with his hair made of sun and his smile made of petals, and those lips brushed over George’s clavicle and his hand rested on his hip. George raised one of his shaking, messy hands to grab Dream’s jaw, and the other man pulled away slightly, one of those lips trapped under George’s thumb.

Dream’s eyes were half lidded. _Bedroom eyes,_ something in the back of George’s mind pushed forward, but just as soon as he saw it, it was gone. Dream’s other hand was still on the bed, just a little ways off from George’s ribs, but the one on his hip was steady. 

George opened his mouth to stir the calm waters between them. 

“I think we should break up,” he said. 

“Huh?” 

Dream drew back, his mouth leaving George’s hand, but his hand was still in the same place. The other man’s chest was white in the sun, yellow in the shade, and George couldn't tell what colour his jeans were before. The necklace Dream wore, the one George had gotten him when he disappeared off to Bali for a weekend with the family, swung down and nearly touched George. 

“I think we should break up, or – or at least stop this,” George said, and he rested the hand he had used to hold Dream close near to his own head.

“What brought this on?” Dream asked, sitting back on the bed. His arm was still over George, and he wished it would disappear. 

“It’s not fair on Sapnap.”

Dream shook his head, his hair, his sun, moving in waves from side to side with the motion. George watched him from the bed but couldn't see his face, disguised in the gloom of the room. 

When they started this, they’d agreed on the magic condition. _Once_. Now it was the tenth, fifteenth, god-knows, and George was expected back before three. _A meeting ran over schedule, I’m just going in to finish something, I’ll pick something up for dinner on the way home, I love you._

Once was not enough, not for him or for Dream, and Dream looked at him again.

“I know it isn't,” he said, “But you said this the third time. And then the eighth. I thought you’d gotten over it. How long will it take you this time?”

George ignored the dig, and thankfully Dream pulled his arm back so that he could sit up, the hotel sheets pooled in his lap. He felt Greek, with the white fabric and the heat, and not to mention the body on the bed with him. The air smelt of sweat, something sweet and savoury at the same time, and George had to resist the urge to turn on the AC or open a window. The windows wouldn't open anyway; it was the fifth floor. 

“I won't break this time,” George lied. 

It was glass. Translucent.

“You will.” 

George looked at him, and Dream’s green eyes looked back. He was impossible sometimes, and George’s frown deepened at the sight of him getting into one of ‘those’ moods. 

“See, this is why we agreed on ‘once’ in the first place,” George said, “You never took me seriously. You’re just upset because you can't move on.” 

“Says you. You called me the past six times, and the time before that it just happened that we were in the same bar,”

“So what?” George frowned at him, but Dream’s expression didn't change, “So what if I called you? It’s on you to say no.”

“It’s on you not to cheat on your partner, and, you know, my friend.”

“And it’s on you not to have sex with your friend’s fiancé.”

George turned away, standing from the white, no longer pristine sheets so that he could find his underwear on the floor. Dream had already put his on, along with the trousers, and George felt under dressed in the nakedness he’d been yearning to get into all day. The air was warm, and yet, somehow, he was chilled to the bone. He pulled up the fabric, then grabbed his own pair of jeans to pull them up too. Dream watched him try and find his shirt. 

“Okay,” Dream agreed, “It’s on both of us.”

“It’s on you,” George tried to ‘remind’ him, but Dream just rolled his eyes.

“Well, I’ll be here until tomorrow morning,” Dream lay back on the mess of sheets as he said it, slapping the bedside table to grab his phone, and George noticed his own on the floor near where he found his jeans. 

The screen was dark, but when he nudged the button with his toe to turn it on he saw the time, and then immediately below it, the two messages he had failed to see. He snatched his shirt from the TV (and Jesus, how did it get up there?) before he pulled it on and grabbed his phone. The shirt was wrinkled, but thankfully with the excuse of being at work on a Saturday he didn't need to pretend to be professional. 

Sapnap’s message lingered in his phone, a dead weight asking him to get more soda before coming back home. George loved Sapnap, he really did, but… sometimes things became tiring. They got tiring with Dream, with any number of his other Exes, and now… and now George just wanted the stuff with Sapnap to work out. It would, if he played his cards right. He loved Sapnap and it would work out. 

“Yeah, whatever,” George said when he grabbed his bag by the door, “I guess I’ll see you around.”

“Probably,” Dream said, refreshing his twitter feed, “Say hi to your fiancé for me.”

“I won't.” George said, and he left the hotel room and Dream behind for a while.

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by 'Love's not a Competition' by the Kaiser Chiefs. One of my oldest and most loved songs
> 
> EDIT: my entire notes section got deleted lol  
> If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I wrote this in one night so any feedback would be brilliant. 
> 
> As always, please respect creators boundaries by not sending them this fic, and I will do the same in the event that they no longer want fanfiction or fan works. If it is ever declared incorrect to write shipping fics by the creators themselves this work will be deleted. Under no circumstance am I trying to insult or hurt anyone here.
> 
> Find me on Tumblr: @turtle-ier  
> Find me on Twitter: @Turtle_ier

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [take me to your heart, for it's there that i belong](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29130426) by [one_wild_gay_egg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/one_wild_gay_egg/pseuds/one_wild_gay_egg)




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